


Temptation #2: Green eyed monster

by WoodsWitch



Series: Lust is Hell [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Jealousy, Lust temptations are awful, M/M, Minoan, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsWitch/pseuds/WoodsWitch
Summary: Part 3 of Lust is Hell, 1715 BC.In which Crawly is assigned a multi-level temptation – two people, two deadly sins each with the intent of sparking a third - and Aziraphale discovers jealousy.#Trigger Warnings: I’m tagging this as “dubious consent” and wasn’t quite sure what to do about the archive warnings. Situation is: Character doesn’t want to be doing what they’re doing but are thinking of it as an annoying choice-that-must-be-made. However, character is arguably not making as free a choice as they think they are. It does end happily, but if that situation is uncomfortably close to home, please skip to next story in series!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Lust is Hell [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995316
Kudos: 11





	Temptation #2: Green eyed monster

Knossos was quite a grand city, with a population of over eighteen thousand citizens, multiple temples, and a four-story palace. Not so grand a city as Thebes, where Aziraphale had spent the last decade or two, but impressive none the less. Peaceful, clearly, the angel noted happily – the city had no defensive walls, no bands of soldiers guarding its port or markets. And it was rich, too. A band of Minoan traders had made their way up the Nile last year, offering fine pots painted with sea creatures, silver, saffron, elaborately patterned cloth. Egypt, by contrast, was not what it had been. The pharaohs of the Thirteenth Dynasty were mostly short-lived, their kingdoms prone to squabbling. Aziraphale had done what he could to ease the tensions, but it was an uphill slog. So when the king had asked the angel, in his guise as a priest of Amun, to travel to the Minoan capitol to discuss an alliance, Aziraphale had been more than happy to agree.

Of course, if he were honest with himself, it was not merely the prospect of promoting trade and diplomacy that drew him to Knossos. Among the goods the Minoan traders had carried with them was a statue of their chief goddess. Aziraphale had seen her depicted before, standing tall and proud, bare-breasted, a snake clutched in each hand. But this statue…well, this statue had a very familiar-looking grin. Her ruffled skirt was painted in red and black, and the long curls that tumbled down her back were an unusual auburn color. Well, if his old acquaintance _were_ in town, Aziraphale certainly ought to look in on them. To be sure they weren’t up to any particularly evil wiles, of course.

Aziraphale could feel the demon’s dark flame in his mind as soon as he set foot on the docks, but it was a little difficult to pinpoint. He found the temple of the snake goddess but, surprisingly, the demonic presence seemed weaker here. _Ah well._ He really ought to see to his mission first, he supposed.

“Of course, sir, I will certainly pass on your message to the queen when she returns,” the serving man who greeted Aziraphale at the door of the palace. “They’re all down in the town for the festival, you know.”

The auditorium was thronged with Minoans of all classes. As in Egypt, folk were dressed for the heat. The ladies – many of whom sat in places of high honor - favored the same ruffled skirts and close-fitting open-bodiced tops as the snake-goddess figure, the men colorful short kilts. From his place mid-way up the tiered bowl of seats, Aziraphale could see the queen in the box at the top, wearing an elaborate headdress topped with feathers and flanked by her consort and ladies in waiting.

The queen clapped her hands, and a door opened at one end of the arena. The floor was packed earth covered in straw, and there was a stout fence between the central space and the audience. The reason for this became apparent as a large black bull trotted in and snorted irritably at the cheering spectators. Then a small gate at the other end of the arena opened. The cheering intensified as a slender, pale-skinned figure sauntered in clad in a black-and-red patterned loincloth.

“Oh, good lord,” the angel sighed.

~

Crawly grinned as he bowed to the crowd. Then he tossed back his oiled, serpentine curls, and eyed the bull speculatively. The bull pawed the ground, not at all sure what to make of this situation, particularly the odd smell of the man-shaped being. Still, when in doubt…

As the bull charged, the demon leapt over its head as if performing a swan dive off a cliff, flying without his wings. He caught himself on his hands and rolled to his feet. The bull snorted, startled by the disappearance of the humanish thing he’d expected to find stuck on one of his horns.

“C’mon, meathead,” Crawly taunted as the bull turned, too quietly to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “Show me what ya got.”

The bull charged again, and again the demon leapt. Sideways, this time, rolling head over heels in mid-air and landing on his feet.

It was then that he noticed a familiar ethereal signature. _Angel._ His eyes flickered up to the stands for a moment. Taking advantage of this lapse in attention, the bull lowered its head and barreled forward. But snake-like reflexes have their advantages. Crawly jumped, throwing his legs straight out to one side over the bull’s right horn, his fingertips nearly brushing his toes, before landing neatly. As he did so, he gave the bull a slap on the rump that earned an indignant bellow.

The bull squinted at the auburn-haired pseudo-human grinning up at the crowd, his back turned. _Right, then. No more messing about. Time to squash this insolent creature into a bloody paste_. He charged. Crawly listened to the sound of thundering hooves. At precisely the right moment, he leapt, backflipping over the polished horns and landing lightly on the bull’s back. The animal bucked and bellowed angrily, but the demon clung on with his knees and steered the bull by the horns until it was running toward the gate where it had entered. As it passed through, Crawly flung himself backward once more, landing on his feet on the straw, and shutting the gate between himself and the bull.

~

It was just as well that angels, even in embodied form, didn’t technically require oxygen. Aziraphale suspected he’d forgotten to breathe ever since the first charge of the bull. As Crawly took his final bow, he finally released a puff of air and sucked in a new breath. “Well, really!”

Of course, it was just like the demon to take on such a reckless pastime, tempting fate. Not that it wouldn’t be far riskier for any human participant, of course. And that outfit! It was practical, for the most part, Aziraphale conceded. No excess cloth to trip one up or get caught on a horn. But it left even less to the imagination than that topless linen sheath dress the demon had been sporting during their last stint in Egypt.

_And just look at the fiend simply wallowing in the attention!_ Some sort of priestess had come out with her attendants to deck the bull-leaper in flowers. She seemed to be lingering far more than was strictly necessary.

~

“Oh, Kirali,” Ariadne purred. She had already looped the chain of blossoms around Crawly’s neck but seemed reluctant to let go of them. “You were simply marvelous today!”

“Yeah?” Crawly tried not to let his grin become fixed and forced-looking, but it was a struggle. The way the priestess and her ladies were clustered around him brought back unpleasant memories of hell’s crowded hallways 1. Besides, his occult senses were distracted by the bright spot in the stands that had taken on an odd, pulsing quality.

“Oh, yes.” Her voice was low. Probably her ladies could hardly hear her, let alone anyone else. “Such fabulous agility. I’ve never seen anything so…virile, and yet graceful.”

“Nggh. Well, fabulous is what I do…”

The bright spot was moving. Crawly managed to extricate himself and move toward the doors. With any luck, if he slid through here and out this gate into a less-crowded side street.

“Angel! Is that you?”

Aziraphale turned. The angel was dressed in a knee-length linen kilt, a leopard pelt that most likely had never seen the outside of a cat draped across his otherwise bare chest. It was a look that very much suited him. “Oh! Crawly! Good heavens.” He seemed anxious. Well, that was nothing new, but it was a flavor of anxious Crawly hadn’t seen before.

“What are you doing here? Been in Egypt again, I see.”

“Ah, yes. I’m here on a sort of diplomatic mission.”

Crawly grinned. “Have time for a drink?”

The angel put on a stern face, but Crawly had seen the spark of interest in his grey eyes. “Hmm. Well, I don’t know if I ought…”

“Trying to avoid me, dearest?”

Crawly felt human hands clutching his arm and suppressed a groan as he turned. “As if I would dare to do that, princess!”

The princess Kitane looked up at him with wide dark eyes. “I saw her, you know. Fawning all over you in the middle of the arena. Simply shameless.”

“Yeah, well. She had a job to do. And it’s not like I can be rude to a priestess, you know.”

“Well, it seems _you_ are _quite_ busy,” Aziraphale said crisply. “I suppose I should leave you to it.”

Crawly snapped his finger, leaving the princess frozen mid eye-bat. “Hey, wait! Angel!”

“No, no. We’ve both got work to do, _clearly_ ,” the angel sniffed.

“Aren’t you even going to _try_ and thwart me?” Crawly whined 2. Honestly, he’d really appreciate some thwarting right now.

“If it should become necessary. But for now, I should be getting back to the palace.” Aziraphale nodded briskly and walked away.

~

The assignment had seemed straightforward enough: Sow dissention between the Minoan queen’s two daughters, using Lust to trigger Jealousy and thereby Wrath. Crawly rather resented the micromanaging involved. As if he didn’t have a much better imagination when it came to ways to sow arguments and dissent! Kitane was the elder sister, and heir to the throne; Ariadne, as Mistress of the Labyrinth, a temple to the Powers of the Earth, was almost equally influential. Up until he’d received his instructions, Crawly had been a priestess of the island’s snake cult. It was a fun gig, and it would have been the easiest thing in the world to drop a vague prophecy sowing doubt about whose offspring would inherit the throne in the next generation or something. But _nooo_ …the Lower Downs always thought they knew better, didn’t they?

Regardless of method, though, he’d worried a bit about the sisters thing. His first attempt at making siblings quarrel had rather unexpectedly resulted in the first murder, a fact that still hurt every time the demon thought about it. But he reminded himself that, for whatever reason, women seemed to be less prone to that sort of thing. Indeed, the sisters’ jealousy so far seemed to manifest itself mainly in icy politeness to each other’s faces, and bitter remarks behind one another’s backs. But that evidently wasn’t enough. Every time Crawly had reported back on his progress, he’d been told to keep at it.

“Until the rift izzz permanent,” Beelzebub had said.

So he was stuck here flirting with these tiresome humans, until they’d made the shift from whatever the familial equivalent of “frenemies” was to proper adversaries. And meanwhile the angel was mad about something and he didn’t have time to go figure out what he’d done wrong. _Uggh._ Well, perhaps it was time to kick it up a notch and get this thing finished.

~

The next day, Crawly loitered outside the wing of the palace where Princess Kitane lived. The thing was…well, both of them wanted to claim him as their own plaything. But each knew that they themselves had not actually managed to claim more than a kiss or two. Therefore, to see the other flirting…it was annoying, sure, but not much more than that. To really get the flames of jealousy going they’d have to believe the other had succeeded where they had yet failed. The demon slid alongside a wall and peered cautiously over a windowsill. Inside was a bed chamber, but it was empty.

“My wife’s not here,” a voice behind him said.

The demon turned around, wondering if he should look worried. The man was several inches taller and at least 50% heavier than Crawly. Not that that _mattered_ , of course, but it probably _should_ matter to the human he was pretending to be, right? On the other hand…had there been a hint of amusement in that voice? He decided to play it cool. “Oh yeah?”

The fellow stepped closer. He had long black locks styled into snaky coils much like Crawly’s and he wore an assortment of gold and silver necklaces. “She’ll be up at the main palace for the next day or two, I should imagine. The queen wants her to deal with the Egyptian ambassador.” He took another step closer and leaned a hand on the wall beside Crawly’s head. “ _I’ll_ be here, though.”

_Urggh._ There was something about the man’s square-jawed look, clipped manner of speaking, and general smugness that reminded Crawly of a certain middle manager he’d known back when his wings had still been white and his job assignments considerably less sordid. _Still, why_ not _add a bit of extra adulterous intent to the assignment?_ That way he’d still have plenty of sins to report, even if the jealousy never tipped over into wrath.

“Uh, right. Sure. Good to know…” he paused for a name.

“Jadikira. So…Tomorrow morning?”

Crawly slipped under the man’s arm and gave him a wink. “We’ll see.” He headed down the hill to find Ariadne. He knew ol' Jad was probably savoring the view, but it was not as pleasant a thought as usual. Still, with any luck, that would be the end of it.

“She went running after you _in the street_!” the priestess gasped.

“Mmmhmm.” The demon sipped his wine.

“Why, that, that…Arrgh!” Ariadne ground her teeth. “She can never have enough, can she? It’s not enough that she’s heir to the throne, that she married the most eligible bachelor in Knossos…she wants _you_ too, just because you’re mine.”

Crawly yelped as Ariadne suddenly grabbed his long hair and yanked him into a kiss.

“You _are_ mine, aren’t you, Kirali?” she asked after a while.

“Nrrgh. Yup. Definitely,” he managed. Then he let his face slide into a sly smile. “You know…maybe we should show her that. Make sure she gets the message.”

Ariadne’s black eyes shone sparkled mischievously. “What did you have in mind, my sweet?”

~

Aziraphale was finding it hard to concentrate on his work. Not that discussing trade deals was ever the most absorbing task; too much like filling out paperwork for Upstairs, really. But this time, as they haggled over exchange rates of Minoan saffron to Nubian gold, his mind kept drifting to the lean arc of the demon’s human form as he soared over that bull, the white flash of his teeth as he grinned up at the crowd. _Oh, he’s surely up to_ something _nefarious among these poor unsuspecting humans. I really ought to go back down to the town and put a stop to it._ Princess Kitane gave an impatient sigh over the scroll she was studying. Suddenly, Aziraphale was reminded of the way she’d gripped Crawly’s arm, looking up at the demon as if he was the most delicious confection she’d ever seen and she intended to devour him down to the last crumb. She didn’t remember that the angel had been there – he’d seen to that. But Aziraphale remembered. Perhaps, then, he should just keep on with what he was doing. Keep her out of the way of that wily demon’s clutches. Or vice versa. It was the right thing to do, surely. 

~

“Where are we…Oh! Oh, _no way_!” Ariadne whispered as Crawly boosted her over the windowsill, breaking out into suppressed giggles at the end.

Crawly swung himself inside as well and drew her over toward the sleeping couch. “Yup. Figured we could mess up her blankets a little, I could drop this bracelet” – he slipped off the serpent-patterned copper one on his upper arm and tossed it to the floor – “you could drop a…a recognizable hairpin or something. Should send a pretty clear message.”

An evil grin crept across Ariadne’s face, as she pictured her sister’s face when she next wandered into this guest room, or when a servant asked where they should put the jewelry they had found. “Oh, you _wicked_ thing! How should I reward you for such a splendid idea?”

Crawly shrugged. “I’m sure I can think of something. But we’d better be quick, or…mmmph!”

Whatever else he had been about to say was smothered as the priestess squashed his face into her bare bosom.

~

Aziraphale felt a little glow of satisfaction as he put his mark on the bottom of the trade agreement. It was one that should serve both nations well. And, he reflected, as he wandered back to his guest chamber to pick up his things, he was now free to wander about the city and do whatever good deeds might need doing. Which of course could include distracting the resident demon from any misdeeds he might be planning. Thwarting such demonic wiles was a very important part of an angel’s job description, after all.

Just then, a little oil lamp flared into life by itself. Aziraphale sighed. After hurriedly putting a blocking ward on the door to make sure no humans wandered in, he chalked the circle on the floor and lit the rest of the lamps. A column of ethereal light sprang into being.

“What took so long?” Gabriel’s voice demanded. “And where are you?”

“I’m in Crete,” _as my last report said_ Aziraphale didn’t add. “And this form of communication does require some time to set up. Did you get my memo where I described my idea of how to send written instructions?”

“Yeah, yeah, never mind. We need you back in Egypt.”

“But there’s a…”

“Egypt. As soon as possible.”

Aziraphale tried to maintain a calm and respectful demeanor as Gabriel described his next assignment in frankly insulting detail.

~

Crawly palmed Ariadne through her multi-layered skirt as he sucked at her right nipple. She made a high-pitched keening noise.

“Hey! Keep it down, willya!” he grumbled, pulling off for a moment. “We’re _meant_ to be being quick and stealthy here.”

But it was too late.

“Well, well. What’s this?”

Crawly groaned. He’d timed this for afternoon, hoping Jadikira would have gotten bored and frustrated enough to wander off and find something (or someone) else to do. Evidently not.

“It’s bad manners to bring a dish into someone else’s home and not offer to share, you know,” Jadikira remarked to Ariadne.

Ariadne eyed her brother-in-law speculatively from her perch at the end of the couch. Crawly knew in his bones that she was calculating how much more it would piss off her sister if she said…

“Who says I’m not willing to share?”

Jad smiled and circled around, eyeing Crawly from all angles. “That would be very generous. He really is a tasty treat, isn’t he?”

“Still here, ya know,” the demon grumbled. He had frozen in place, still half bent over Ariadne.

Jad toyed with a long copper curl. “Do you object?”

“Oh, all right. Guess I can fit you in,” Crawly sighed heavily.

The human’s breath on his ear was hot as he chuckled. “Oh, I know you can.”

Crawly felt the fastener of his short kilt unhook and the fabric slip to the floor. Jad’s broad hands gripped the demon’s arsecheeks and he slid his thumb speculatively along the sensitive skin in between.

_Oh._ Well, Crawly _had_ been meaning to try that variant. He’d rather not have the experiment involve _this_ Gabriel-looking motherfucker. _But whatever. Let’s get this over with._

As he resumed kissing Ariadne he concentrated his mind, ordering the relevant muscles to relax. Nevertheless, it still burned when Jad pressed his thumb into Crawly’s arsehole. The demon considered using a bit of miracle to ease things further; he could probably even summon up the olive oil this inconsiderate bastard had apparently forgotten. But no – that would probably be suspicious. _Never mind. You survived literally being on fire for an uncountable length of time before time. You can tough this out._

Ariadne made a pleased noise that drew Crawly’s eyes up. Her eyes weren’t on his face, though. She was watching intently, with flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips, as Jad worked him open. As the human slid in a second finger – and Crawly very deliberately did not wince – she gave a moan and turned herself around, hiking up her skirts and waggling her pale, plump arse in a clear invitation. _Huh._ Crawly slid a finger along her folds and carefully into her cunt. Ariadne made a desperate sound. She was already extremely wet. _OK. So this human really wants to be fucked by someone who’s simultaneously getting fucked by someone else. That’s new. But sure. Why the heaven not, at this point?_ Jad seemed to be into the idea too, to judge by the way his free hand was reaching around to grab and tug at Crawly’s cock. The demon smacked his fingers away and readied himself in his own way – which had less to do with friction, and more to do with ordering his circulatory system to cooperate, or else. Then he took hold of Ariadne’s hips and slid himself into her impatient cunt. She called out his name desperately, begging for more. Crawly repositioned himself on his elbows to try and adjust the leverage just as – _ow, ow, bloody OW!_ – Jad decided that was the moment to stick his cock in _him_.

Every thrust of Jad’s hips smacked the demon’s up against Kitane’s plush rear. The humans seemed to be loving this, to judge by the sounds they were making, but Crawly felt uncomfortably like a piece of mutton squashed between two pieces of flatbread. If the pitas were sweaty, that is. And were somehow _also_ made of meat3. Demons didn’t pray, but he _hoped_ that this… _whatever it was_ would _finally_ satisfy his bosses and give him the time to go smooth things over with Aziraphale. At another time he might have mocked himself for that thought. But, really, what could be a more restful contrast to these grabby, possessive humans than a fussily charming, ultimately untouchable angel? He closed his eyes, and pictured the Aziraphale saying “Oh, I shouldn’t,” while the twinkle in his storm-grey eyes said: _But I will_. The electric brush of fingertips as Crawly passed over a cup of wine – Odd phenomenon, that; No doubt an effect of their opposite natures – and the shy smile as the angel lifted it to his lips…

Crawly was jolted out of these thoughts by a shriek. Something crashed against the wall over his head. Probably, to judge from the sound, the very expensive octopus-patterned jug that had stood on a table by the door. Princess Kitane was standing in the doorway, vibrating and sputtering with incoherent rage. Jad – _Thank Satan_ – disengaged, allowing Crawly to remove himself from Ariadne. She dropped her skirts but was aiming a shit-eating grin at her sister that was definitely not helping the other’s mental state.

Jadikira, to give him some credit, decided to make an effort to calm the situation. “Almond blossom, I can explain…” He ducked, as Kitane uttered another scream of fury and launched a small bronze statue of a bull at his skull.

Crawly leapt out of the window, not bothering to grab his clothes; he could always miracle up more as needed. He paused outside, catching his breath and sniffing the air.

A few minutes later, startled citizens were yelping and leaping out of the way as a large black snake slithered through the streets at an alarming speed, not stopping until it reached the port. And, in truth, it didn’t stop even then, but slipped into the water and began swimming toward the open sea. The priestesses were consulted. All agreed it must be some kind of an omen, though they were rather vague regarding what it was an omen _of_.

~

Aziraphale stood in the prow of the boat, staring out toward the horizon. He felt…well, he didn’t really know what he felt. Some kind of stew of frustrated, annoyed, and sad, it seemed. He was annoyed at Gabriel, and at that blasted demon. And a bit at himself for being annoyed at either of them for simply doing their jobs. But then again…

His train of thought was interrupted by a lot of shouting from the left side of the ship, and a familiar sense of dark flames smelling of cinnamon and ash.

“It’s a sea serpent!” someone was shouting.

“Don’t be absurd!” Aziraphale said loudly, and there was the resonance of angelic suggestion in his voice. “ _Clearly_ someone has merely fallen overboard. Now do you intend to help them or not?”

A few minutes later, a skinny redheaded figure was being hauled over the side of the ship on a rope. The sailors fussed over him for a moment before getting a sudden feeling that they ought to be doing something else.

Crawly pushed a hank of wet hair out of his face. “Hey, angel.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Crawly flopped over on a canvas-covered pile of ropes. “Finished up my job. Thought maybe we could go get that drink in… Where are we going, anyway?”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “ _We_?”

The demon sighed elaborately. “We’re on the same boat, aren’t we? But if you’d rather split up when we get there…”

“I didn’t say that. Egypt – I’m going back to Egypt.”

“Nice.”

Crawly shifted and winced. Aziraphale eyed him closely.

“Are you quite all right? You’re sitting – and I use the term loosely – rather more oddly than usual.”

“Yeah. Fine. Just tired.” Crawly’s eyes drifted shut. “Bit of a pain in the arse, this last assignment.”

Aziraphale grunted. “Yes, well. I know what that’s like.”

One serpentine eye snapped open and studied the angel’s face. _Nope. Pretty sure he doesn’t get it. At least 99% sure, anyway._

“Would you like to borrow my bunk?”

Crawly’s other eye blinked open. “Wot?”

“Well, it’s not a bunk, really. It’s a blanket tucked in a gap between the cargo. I don’t need to sleep, but the crew would have had thought it terribly odd if I didn’t pretend to. But still, if you needed a rest…”

“Huh. Yeah, if you wouldn’t m… Oh, hang on.” The demon snapped his fingers, drying his hair and black linen kilt. _There. No good getting an angel’s pretend-sleeping-nook soggy_.

Crawly lay down on the woolen blanket and listened to the creaking of the ship and the splash of the oars. The angel was leaning his back against a crate and reading a papyrus scroll. If he glanced to one side, he could just see the edge of Aziraphale’s sandaled foot. But Crawly didn’t need to see the angel to feel his warm presence, or to know that his brow was probably slightly furrowed in concentration, and there was probably a little sack of something tasty easy to hand. The demon smiled as he heard a crunch; his snake-like tongue informed him that it came from a roasted almond cracking between celestial molars. His eyes closed, and he dreamt that he was sailing home. Which was a ridiculous idea, really. If demons had a home at all it would be hell, and only an idiot would want to go back there. But he dreamed of home all the same.

_________________________________________________________

1\. Of course, they did smell better than most demons – he had to give them that. The Minoans had invented plumbing at least five hundred years ago and used it at every opportunity.Back

2\. Not that he’d ever admit that the word applied. But it definitely did.Back

3\. Although he would never _ever_ admit it to Aziraphale, this mental image would eventually become the inspiration for the [KFC double-down](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Double_Down_%28sandwich%29) Back

**Author's Note:**

> There isn’t a ton known about the Minoan civilization, since no one has yet managed to decipher their writing system. But we do have their artwork, and some words and names recorded in other languages (http://www.peiraeuspubliclibrary.com/names/europa/minoan.html).  
> Did I set this story in this period just because Crowley would look fantastic in both the male and female costumes? Maybe. I admit nothing!  
> For illustrations, and a good general background on the Minoans see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcrV5hc5k3U  
> BTW, bull-leaping is apparently still a real (if niche) sport. I took most of Crowley/Crawly’s moves from this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7rx1On-bvk


End file.
